


There's No Fooling You

by AllTheLokisWelcome7



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Dark fic, Dark!Demyx, Dark!Zexion, Dark-ish anyway, Demyx knows more than he lets on, M/M, Mentions of Death, Neither are as nice as I usually depict them, PTSD, Political Intrigue, slow start
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 21:11:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18507163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheLokisWelcome7/pseuds/AllTheLokisWelcome7
Summary: Knowing secrets is what Zexion does, but not all of them were of his choosing.Rated M for manipulative behaviour, a battle, and a relationship built on favours.





	There's No Fooling You

**Author's Note:**

> This started as an attempt at a structured and cohesive plot. I've been writing this for over two months now, but I wanted to finish this before I published any more of the completed works I have lying around.

Zexion had a habit of breezing past challenges rather than meeting them, outwitting them easily. That was until recently, where a new obstacle in his non-existence forced him to take a different approach: Demyx.

Before Demyx had made his way into the equation, Zexion had considered his illusions flawless. Unless he had willed it, no one had ever been able to discern his true identity beneath the guise of another. Yet, among the older Nobody's countless nuances, he was somehow able to see through his spells without fail.

 _At least he does not interfere with my_ _plans,_ he thought darkly.

When this innate ability had been revealed, they had blessedly been alone. Zexion refused to entertain the possibility that the rest of the Organization would catch on.

* * *

Lexaeus' form was a favourite of the Schemer's. As he was known to say little and inherently intimidating on the surface, it was easy to traverse the halls unquestioned. Zexion often chose it as an escape, a way to walk freely without being bombarded with queries or other disruptions.

It was this form that he was wearing when he passed Demyx, and without hesitation, the other had looked him in the eye and said “Hey, Zexion.”

Zexion jolted in surprise, arms crossed over his chest as the illusion melted away from his form.

“How did you know?” he asked tersely.

“What do you mean?”

“How did you know that it was me? Tell me at once.”

Demyx stared blankly, seemingly uncertain. “Why wouldn't it be you?”

“I'll have you know that I work _very_ hard to ensure that I am undisturbed. Lexaeus is intimidating, and yet you were perfectly at ease. You even failed to glance upwards!”

Despite his smaller frame, when Zexion leaned forwards in an attempt to be imposing, Demyx took a step back and rubbed his neck sheepishly, his smile nervous. Even without the intensity of a heart, what anger Zexion _could_ feel was directed at him, and it was an undesirable and unknown situation.

“It's your breathing, I think?”

“My breathing?”

“Yeah. It's inevitable that Lexaeus breathes kinda harshly, given his size. I thought you would have known that?”

Zexion glared at him, a mixture of ice and brimstone that he'd previously thought only Vexen could pull off.

_I guess he's a good mimic after all._

“The details of my form are a perfect rendition of my recollection of events. Are you saying that you doubt my memory?”

“No, not at all!” Demyx held his hands up, anxiously trying to appease him. “I just thought it was the breath.”

“Well, however you tell, you _must_ keep it a secret, do you understand?”

“Sure, but why?”

Zexion grabbed Demyx's shoulders, fingers digging in hard enough to make him yelp. His words were slow, voice low with an underlying threat that he'd clearly learned from Saïx.

“My continued survival here depends on my moving undetected.”

Demyx's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, jaw slack. “Did I hear that right? You'll die if someone knows it's you?”

“Essentially.” Zexion allowed his eyes to drift away, let his hands fall from his shoulders, and offered him the semblance of vulnerability. “It's always a possibility.”

Demyx didn't entirely believe him, but he couldn't risk it being true, either.

“Alright. I won't say anything.”

“You have my thanks.” The smile that Zexion gave him melted Demyx's heart.

_If that gratitude is fake, he's an amazing liar._

“I'll be seeing you.”

Zexion shook his head at the comment, the barest traces of a laugh bouncing off of the stony walls as he turned and continued, his glamour building itself over him as he walked.

Demyx listened to him leave, thinking back on their conversation as the subtle imperfections reached his ears: footsteps slightly too heavy, rumbling breaths missing the underlying rasp, the creak of leather too light for the frame.

_Maybe I should teach him about the intricacies of sounds? Was that really a cry for help?_

It was a decision that took only a moment. Before he knew it, Demyx had turned on his heel and run back towards Zexion, reaching through the glamour to catch his wrist. Zexion stilled, neither turning to face him nor pulling his hand away. However, his form shifted reflexively, the back of his mind supplying Xigbar as the least suspicious person to be seen interacting with Demyx in this manner.

“What?”

“Come with me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I'll teach you how to protect yourself. How to identify and emulate the undertones that you're missing.”

Zexion tilted his head minutely, enough to observe him without facing him.

“And what's in it for you? I do not fancy the thought of being indebted to you.”

“Peace of mind.”

_Such a typical response from IX. But that alone cannot be enough._

“What else?”

Demyx paused, chewing on his lip. His grip loosened slightly, his free hand running through his hair.

“We can talk about that later. You can leave at any time.”

Zexion snorted. “That's not suspicious or anything.”

Demyx's face grew red, but there was no change in reaction otherwise. “Uh. I get you. But we both know I'm no match for you.” His smile was an empty vision of reassurance. “Even if I wanted to be unsavoury, I'm sure you have magic available to paralyse me or something.”

With a reluctant sigh, Zexion conceded to the implication that it was unsafe to keep talking in the halls. Deciding that he had more to gain than lose, he turned towards him, hands on his hips. With a nod, they went to Demyx's room.

* * *

When they were inside, Demyx sat on his bed and strummed his sitar, hunching his form slightly to appear less imposing. Zexion chose to lean against the far wall, away from the door but close enough that they could converse past the notes. Both could immediately tell that this practice was a cover to avoid potential eavesdroppers.

“So, be honest with me. What is your true motive for helping me?”

“I was kinda hoping you'd be willing to do me some favours?”

This was more along the lines of what he'd been expecting.

“What kind of favours?”

“I have a list,” Demyx hummed, pulling a folded note from a drawer at his feet before handing it over. “You can pick and choose depending on what you're comfortable with.”

Zexion scanned the list, face carefully blank. As he'd expected, the tasks ranged from altering the quota for his missions, to writing his reports for him, to various acts of physical intimacy. The only things that surprised him from the list were how tame some of the options were. Hand-holding, cuddling, face kisses and sharing a bed were amongst them. Zexion regarded the other critically as Demyx pretended not to notice. Whilst it may have been true once that he had desired such things, it seemed pointless to have them listed. He doubted that the gestures were able to provide the comfort that they promised.

“I wouldn't have considered you the sort to want to be tied up,” Zexion commented conversationally.

“No one would. That's what makes it awesome.”

“And you'd entrust me with this knowledge?”

“Well, yeah. Trust builds from exchanges. Besides, secrets are your whole deal. I know that you'd take advantage of it in a way that benefits you. I also know that, no matter what the knowledge _is,_ you'd prefer to keep it under wraps.” Demyx smirked, tapping the body of his sitar rhythmically before striking a jarring chord, the painful noise resonating throughout and beyond his room. “You being in on it is of no risk to me.”

Zexion laughed softly, a sneer dragging at the corner of his lips. A smirk suited Demyx far too well, in a sinister sort of way. “I have to admit, you even had _me_ fooled. I'm impressed.”

Demyx's mirroring laugh was light, his forced carefree air filling it without being altered by his now-triumphant posture.

“I didn't have flattery on the list.”

“No, you didn't. However, I won't do anything on it until I have proof that you can deliver your end of it.”

Demyx stood, sauntering to the door and setting his sitar beside it. He fiddled with the tuning pegs for a moment before flicking the strings, allowing a watery figure to form and begin playing. Pleased with his idea, he returned to his bed with a few contented noises, unwavering attention on Zexion.

“Okay, let's go over your Lexaeus, shall we?”

Zexion shrugged, allowing the shadows to amass over his body and raise themselves into the desired shape. As Lexaeus, he crossed his arms with a dissatisfied grumble.

“Okay, that was pretty good. But there are two _really_ big things that stand out to me. The first is your breathing, as I said. Yeah, you sound a lot like him, and the others are probably fooled. But there's a slight rasp on the end of each breath, just a tiny noise at the front of his throat, that you miss. It sounds like it's from right here.” Demyx placed two fingers against the dip in his neck, right above his collarbone. Zexion gingerly touched the same area on himself, trying it out skeptically.

“What might the other 'big thing' be?”

Demyx pointed at him absently, without an accusatory accent but still rude. “Your footsteps are a touch too heavy. Maybe you've misjudged his weight, or you're overcompensating.”

“How dare you?”

Demyx effortlessly waved away the insulted Vexen impression, closing his eyes and tilting his head. “You wanted proof of what I pick up on? Try accommodating my points, _then_ decide whether or not you want to yell at me.”

Zexion glared, but complied. It was frustrating, being corrected in this way, but as he made the subtle changes to his illusion, he couldn't deny that Demyx knew what he was talking about.

“Better?”

“Do be quiet.”

“No need to be rude. So, what'll it be?”

Zexion sighed with irritation, dropping the glamour and regarding the list again.

“As much as I'd appreciate binding you and leaving you here, I feel as though you'd like that too much. I am not opposed to a long kiss, however.”

“Who's to say I wouldn't enjoy that just as much?” Demyx grinned, shifting to get comfortable.

Zexion smirked, setting one hand heavily on his shoulder to keep him there. He put his weight on one knee, positioned on the mattress between Demyx's legs, and kissed him harshly. Demyx wrapped his arms around him eagerly, kissing back with a buried hunger. Both were panting harshly when they parted, Demyx giddy and Zexion self-satisfied.

“Because no matter how desperately it is desired, no one has ever been aroused from kissing.”

“Would it bother you if I was?” Demyx laughed, testing how much intellectual room Zexion would give him.

Visible eye briefly drifting between them before returning to the other's gaze, Zexion sneered. “I would be concerned for your safety, but let us be thankful that is not the case.”

“I guess so,” he chuckled, his smile filled with the echoes of hope. “Same time tomorrow?”

“We'll see,” the other replied, smirk subtle in the dim light.

He pushed himself to his feet with only the soft whispers of loose clothing and the remainder of their breathlessness able to be heard past the din of careless notes. If he were being honest with himself, the disembodied song was off-putting, but he accepted it for its cover.

The Schemer summoned an entrance to a dark corridor against the wall, and turned slightly to peer at the Nocturne from under his fringe.

“I trust that you'll not breathe a word of this?”

Demyx smirked, fingers pressed against his temple in some form of salute. “Doubtlessly.”

Zexion returned the smirk before stepping through.

_Our partnership could prove very useful indeed._

* * *

“Hey,” Demyx said, gazing down at the other with a soft smirk. His hand flipped Zexion's fringe out of his face with a fondness born of familiarity. If he didn't know any better, he would assume that the fondness was more than memory. “What say we have a little takeover?”

“You've gone mad.” He raised an eyebrow slightly, the only tell to his curiosity.

“Why? We could do it, you know. No more missions, no more battles, no more being shouted at. What have you got to lose?”

“I'll have you know that I'm quite content in my work environment.”

Demyx snorted harshly, face a painted example of cynicism.

“Sure. You're content in an environment where you're forced to be someone else if you want anything done peacefully. You're content to roam the halls as yourself, being gunned down by meaningless questions all the time. I might have a convincing act, Zex, but I'm not daft.”

Zexion sighed heavily, eyes level as he gazed up at him. “Then tell me what you have planned.”

* * *

“Zexion.”

The Schemer stopped in the hallway, turning only slightly to show that he'd heard the command. Whilst he was always anticipating being intercepted when presenting as his true self, he had not expected to be interrupted by their Superior. He only seemed to manifest during meetings.

“Perhaps you would join me in my office?”

Demyx had given him the training to confirm his suspicions, that the question was a command. To be obeyed without question or hesitation. Zexion inclined his head and turned towards him fully, his measured steps echoing evenly against the floor, before gradually falling into step behind the Superior. It was reasonable to assume that there was more work to do, given that even Saïx was out of the castle on a mission. By all reports, they were alone.

Unbeknownst to them, Demyx peered at them from around the corner, black silhouette blending seamlessly with the shadows.

When they reached the study, Xemnas stood with his back to the door, silently basking in the glow of his Kingdom Hearts. Zexion closed the door quietly behind himself, then stood at the desk patiently. Neither spoke for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Xemnas turned, his eyes hard and cold.

“Your control of your powers has grown considerably since you first joined us. Although, I would go so far as to say that you have an exceptional talent for deception. If we had hearts, your ambition would be commendable. You serve us well, Zexion.”

The hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. Something about this situation felt off, but he struggled to place it. Another silence stretched on, even heavier than what Xemnas was known for.

_Is it his tone this time? No, it couldn't be. But then..._

His words. Once more, his choice of words could not encompass the weight of what he kept hidden.

_Serve us well. Present tense. Meaning a change is about to happen, and likely something monumental._

“But,” Xemnas finally broke the silence, eyes ever-piercing. A glint in them made him seem even more sinister, and Zexion suddenly felt as though the lion of a man were reading his thoughts. His stomach curled, and he fought hard to keep the disgust from his expression.

“Personal ambition holds no place amongst our ranks. You know that I only seek your cooperation. You are our brightest, Zexion. It would be such a shame if we were to lose you."

For a fleeting moment, Zexion considered using an illusion to level his voice, but dismissed it almost immediately afterwards. Xemnas would notice, somehow, and the last thing he needed was to give him a reason to enact his unspoken threats. Instead, he inhaled silently through his nose before answering flatly.

“My ambitions align with your own. My loyalties are to you before all else, and my talents exist solely to further The Organization.”

It was a practised phrase, ready to prove his fealty to anyone who dared question him. His steadying breath had given him time to trick the senses, but the rest was on Xemnas. They stared each other down, igniting a battle of wills as their resolves were tested.

From the other side of the door, feet off to the side so as to not cast a shadow beneath it, Demyx frowned. He wasn't sure if he could do anything to help should things turn sour, but he'd be damned if he left Zexion to fend for himself. There was too much at stake here.

“I find this odd to say,” Xemnas' rumbling voice seemed to send the door and the room beyond it vibrating with power. Demyx felt it brewing like a thunderstorm, soon to be lethal. “But I don't believe you.”

“You'd make a liar of me?” Zexion said steadily, narrowing his eyes. His arms folded across his chest, and despite the pressing possibility of everything going wrong, he felt as calm and in control as ever.

“You'd make a liar of yourself.”

The air crackled with a harsh sound, ripping through his hearing, and his hands found their way to his ears before he could stop them. He felt more than saw the beam of condensed energy surging from the other's palm. Xemnas' raw power dampened his own, and the thrumming in his ears interfered with remembering his spells.

 _This is it,_ he thought absently. This moment felt as unreal as his entire non-existence, yet there had never been anything more real to him. _I should have_ known _better. Alone, I am no match for our Superior, and Demyx isn't able to help-_

More disorienting than the electrifying aura Xemnas channelled was the immense wave of sounds that suddenly accompanied a rush of cold air behind him.

Demyx had burst in, wailing an out-of-tune song at the top of his lungs and harshly playing Arpeggio. Xemnas looked absolutely furious, his cold demeanour abandoned as he dismissed his weapon and covered his own ears. Before he could even take the breath to shout, however, Zexion plunged an object into where his heart would be. He didn't know what he'd materialised, only that he'd laced it with the strongest curse he knew.

Demyx locked the door, and Zexion quickly threw a silencing spell over the room, breathing harshly. He collapsed to the ground, scrabbling backwards to the safety he found with the Nocturne without taking his eyes off of Xemnas. Even when incapacitated, he was easily the most powerful Nobody, and his energy flooded across the room around him, seeping from his wound as he fought it. Watching him struggle with his own abilities, gasping and snarling, brought long-forgotten memories to the surface.

 

 _Ienzo couldn't move. His limbs were heavy and he struggled to breathe, his rigid form trembling. This wasn't happening. This_ couldn't _be happening. His parents weren't dying on the ground in front of him, gasping and clawing at the dark puddles that clung to them with the last of their strength. The darkness would come for him too, and there was nothing he could do._

 _Then there was red. Red brick walls surrounded him, the colour occasionally broken by an exposed pipe. He turned to stare at two men, one a betrayer and one a secret. A Key,_ that _Key! It had caused this mess. After all that he had seen: the battle, the armour, more of that horrid darkness. The secret held the Key, but no one else could see it. He would pay one day._

 

Zexion's breathing was harsh. The more he stared, the harder it became to separate what he was observing from what he was seeing. Was it truly right, for Xemnas to fade before him, exactly like his blood parents had? What did right and wrong matter anymore? When had it ever mattered to Nobodies? They continued tirelessly towards their goals, without a care for their empty existences. This was nothing but a mere illusion, this failing attempt at growing a conscience. But if this was false, what was the truth?

So involved was he in trying to make sense of the flood of memories and sensations, Zexion didn't see Xemnas raise his hand once more.

“Stop!” Demyx yelled, throwing himself between them. He called to the water to shield them, forming a thick wall from floor to ceiling. It hissed as it slowly became steam around them, Xemnas' power as fierce and scalding as his rage. There was another earth-shattering crack and his vision went white. Pain blossomed from a place he couldn't identify, and he yelped, thrown from his feet.

When Zexion came to his senses, he had no way of knowing how long had passed. Xemnas was nowhere to be seen, only the scorch marks in the middle of the room suggesting his fate. His ears still rang slightly, and his breath remained laboured. His shoulders sang with tension, back painful from its stay against the wall. He'd intended to trap Xemnas' mind in the scraps of his beloved armour, left behind by the woman he was sure was murdered too, but he had no way of knowing if he was successful. Xemnas was gone now. That was the only certainty.

A whimper reached him, and he turned his head slowly, eyes widening with shock. Demyx was crumpled against the far wall, curled around Arpeggio. A large gash split the instrument's body, and a broken string had wound around his arm as though seeking comfort.

“Demyx?” Zexion whispered carefully, voice catching in his parched throat.

Demyx groaned again, eyes barely blinking open. Zexion crawled to his side, lacking the strength to stand on his own, then helped him onto his back. All he could do was kneel, and bear witness.

“How is... she...?”

It took a moment before he realised that Demyx was talking about the instrument,

“She'll be fine.” When did it become so easy to lie? “You'll be fine.”

“I only wanted... to protect you...”

“Why?” He gripped Demyx's hand, the glove torn. His skin was soaked. Was he dying, too?

“Dunno... Your power called to mine, I guess.”

Demyx closed his eyes again, smiling. There was something less off about it than usual, Zexion thought.

“You're not as good a liar as you think,” his co-conspirator continued, almost laughing. “I knew you were faking it, when you asked for my help. You didn't need me.”

“I need you now.”

There was no denying this fact. If Demyx was going to die anyway... He may as well tell him while he still lived.

“I don't know how to lead. Not like I pretend to.”

“You'll be fine,” Demyx echoed, smirking. For one last time, he opened his eyes, gazing up at him. Zexion had never seen him so beautiful, nor so horrifying, as in that moment. Then he closed them again.

“No...”

Zexion lost the last of his strength, collapsing beside him. He dragged his limbs so that he could curl around his partner.

“Please...”

The other's body didn't feel any different. He wasn't fading, but the water that pooled around them felt wrong.

“Demyx.” Zexion called to him again, closing his eyes. The other wouldn't respond. He himself felt so cold, more numb than ever.

_I should rest..._

 

Warm arms surrounded him when he regained consciousness. He was in his bed, the familiar scents comforting. Demyx had his knees tucked between them, unaffected breaths fluttering Zexion's fringe.

_Was that a dream?_

His body ached, and his head felt clouded. This didn't feel the same as when they usually woke up together. The faint ringing in his ears haunted him, like a distant memory. He stretched carefully, and jolted as his foot touched splintered wood.

_What?_

When he turned in the other's arms, he was unable to withhold his gasp. Arpeggio lay there, her body gouged.

_That was real! But how?_

Awoken by the movement, Demyx stirred. He yawned, pressing closer to Zexion and nuzzling into his hair, before mumbling something into the pillow.

“How are you alive?”

“Rude,” the other yawned again. “I go through all this effort to save you, and you won't even return the favour?”

“I-”

“When I came to, you were holding me, and there was water _everywhere._ I made sure the door was still locked, then brought us back here with a portal. You gave me quite the scare when you stopped paying attention. That's really not like you.”

Zexion had nothing to say. Demyx seemed less callous than usual when he spoke next.

“I've never seen you so undone. Can you tell me what happened?”

“My parents.”

Demyx carefully positioned himself so that there were no gaps between them while he waited for the explanation. It felt like it would bring the most comfort.

“They died because of Xemnas, I think.”

Zexion sounded as vulnerable as he felt, and the disgust and shame clawed at him when he realised that he had followed Xemnas quite faithfully. Despite his displeasure at his work sometimes, he had not held a resentment that he felt he should. Somehow, he had forgotten the distinct Keyblade in his memories, and had followed a murderer without question because of it. But how could he tell Demyx of the thoughts that ate at him and stole his resolve?

“I buried my memories of them, and of him. Tell me I'm wrong for doing so...”

In lieu of a proper response, Demyx shrugged. Even if he had an answer, this wasn't his call.

“You'll need to decide that for yourself.”

“Do we truly not feel so intensely?”

Demyx stilled.

“When I thought you were dying... I swear I felt something for you.”

“Me too. I guess we have to, right? Me jumping in to save you makes no logical sense.”

“I suppose so. I should have known that you were alive, when you closed your eyes... Corpses open theirs.”

“You were in shock,” Demyx murmured, pressing his cheek against his neck. “No one can hold your thoughts against you.”

Zexion was silent for a long moment, trying to collect his thoughts and accept the compassion.

“What... What do we do now?”

“We stick with the plan. You become Xemnas where it's convenient, and slowly redirect our efforts. Then we act the same as always.”

“Your secret has grown far too large,” Zexion chuckled drily, exhausted. “I have no idea how I'm to continue keeping it.”

“You'll find a way,” Demyx promised, nosing his hair. “You always do.”

“There's no fooling you.”

Demyx nodded, smirking conspiratorially as he pressed his fingertip to his own temple.

“Yeah. There's no fooling the fool.”

 


End file.
